


Asthma

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asthma, Asthma attack, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's asthma gets the better of him again. Bucky's there, he always is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asthma

**Author's Note:**

> Do asthma attacks need a trigger warning? Better safe than sorry so here it is.  
> I love comments and requests!!!

The apartment was too cold. Far too cold. A fine sheen of frost clung to the windows of the small Brooklyn apartment and the gaps around the doors and floorboards let in streams of bitingly chilled air. Despite being clad in trousers, two pairs of socks, one of Bucky’s thick, woollen combat jumpers and a scarf, Steve’s bones ached and his feet were numb.

“Really Buck, I’m f”- Steve halted as his thin frame was shaken by a wave of racking coughs.

Bucky winced at the sound, rubbing Steve’s back as they sat on his bed. It was the middle of the night, and the same sound had made it impossible for Sergeant Barnes to sleep, not out of irritation but out of concern. Steve's asthma was worse at night, especially in this weather. When he was like this, Bucky didn't sleep much. He's never admit that he sat up in his room, waiting for a choke or a wheeze to sound from the room opposite, anything at all.

“Sit up a bit straighter, Stevie,” Bucky suggested, “Might make it easier.”  


Steve tried but another fit of coughing buckled him even further forward. The coughs were worse too, rattling with unmoveable mucus that was blocking his already narrowed airways. Bucky slung the thin quilt around Steve’s shoulders and smacking his back a bit harder but stopping when he could feel the heel of his hand knocking into Steve’s slightly too-prominent shoulder blades uncomfortably.

“I promise Steve,” Bucky rambled, stroking Steve’s clammy hands in his, “By the end of this week, I’ll have enough cash to get that linctus stuff. It’ll help you some, I promise.”  


Steve did not reply. The coughs had turned to stiff wheezes that whistled on the way in and crackled on the way out. It sounded like soda being drawn up a straw. Bucky could see, even in the dim light, the unsettling but sickeningly familiar bluish tinge forming around Steve’s mouth.

“I know,” Bucky moaned helplessly, “I know it hurts.”

He didn’t know whether to touch him, whether hugging him would make him feel more restricted or if the comfort would calm him. No matter how many times this happened, Bucky never felt any less of a fish out of water when he saw Steve like this, desperate to take in a full, comfortable breath but being so painfully unable. Even when he could barely breathe, Steve would still try to convince Bucky not to worry. It never worked. Bucky silently promised himself that even if he had to work three jobs every week for the rest of his life, he would see Steve get better.

“It won’t stop!” Steve managed, sobbing out the words between gasps. His hands were shaking, the adrenaline and panic of suffocation that he never got used to was creeping up his arms.

“It will, Stevie,” Bucky reassured emptily, “Just keep trying for me, kid.”

Steve put his head in his hands, still lurching with painful shivers.

He cursed his body, he cursed the fact that a cold winter would drive him to near asphyxia and he cursed the fact that his weakness meant that Bucky had to work himself ragged every week because he couldn’t manage it.

Slowly his chest loosened, his breathing slowed and returned to normal. Exhaustion replaced panic.

“There we go,” Bucky sighed, lying Steve down against the mattress gently, “All better, right?” Steve nodded drowsily before curling into Bucky’s warm chest, still trembling but drained enough to sleep regardless.

Bucky took a breath, relief and fatigue clouding his head. A brief look out of the window showed the first signs of dawn approaching, so Bucky sat and watched Steve, measuring the steady rise and fall of his chest diligently until it was time for him to get ready and go back out to work.

He didn’t mind. It was for Steve, that was all that mattered.

 

 

 


End file.
